


The Little Death

by lyrium_tattoo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3802855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrium_tattoo/pseuds/lyrium_tattoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Obsessed with the affinities between sex and death, the Renaissance called orgasm "the little death." </i><br/>--</p><p>Anders woke as predawn light filtered dimly into the back room of his clinic. A frustrated groan escaped him as he sank back into lumpy pillows and bedding. He ran a hand through dirty blond locks that were slightly damp from the sweat of a restless sleep. Imagined memories of rough fingers, dark eyes, and soft, wet lips still lingered in his mind. He groaned again, arms falling back to either side of his head. Two nights in a row now he’d woken from dreams about Hawke. Despite, or perhaps because of having known him for three years, Anders remained infatuated with the man. And oh, Maker his smalls were uncomfortably tight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Death

Anders woke as predawn light filtered dimly into the back room of his clinic. A frustrated groan escaped him as he sank back into lumpy pillows and bedding. He ran a hand through dirty blond locks that were slightly damp from the sweat of a restless sleep. Imagined memories of rough fingers, dark eyes, and soft, wet lips still lingered in his mind. He groaned again, arms falling back to either side of his head. Two nights in a row now he’d woken from dreams about Hawke. Despite, or perhaps because of having known him for three years, Anders remained infatuated with the man. And _oh, Maker_ his smalls were uncomfortably tight.

He flipped onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow, arms loose around it and sorely tempted to just will himself back to sleep, to ignore the pooling heat in his belly. But as soon as he’d closed his eyes, Hawke’s were there staring back at him from underneath dark lashes, mirth and mischief playing in his smile. Soon Anders’ eyes were pinched tightly shut and he found himself slowly grinding his hips down into the bedding, creating a pleasurable friction even through the cloth that still bound him. Before long he practically rutted into the sheets, arms wrapped tightly around the pillow, his whole body full of need. With a growl Anders flipped over to tend to himself.

He slowed his pace and teased himself, his hands trailing lightly over his bare chest. His short, blunt nails dragged gently down his stomach to just above his fur, and back up again to tweak each nipple in turn. He repeated the pattern a few times, gradually moving faster, scratching and pinching harder - a little rougher with himself at each pass. He let out a pleased moan imagining Hawke’s fingers and teeth in place of his own hands. What he wouldn’t give to find out if that silver tongue of Hawke’s could do more than talk!

Anders pushed his underclothes down to his knees, closing his eyes and sighing in relief as his hardness became exposed to the warm morning air. One of his hands trailed back up his inner thigh to stroke his length, while the other moved to resume pinching and pulling at his nipples. He rubbed a thumb over the slit of his cock, smearing precum over the head and imagined Hawke’s wet lips wrapped around his head, his warm tongue swirling over the tip. Anders let his palm drag across the head to gather more of his wetness, then tightened his grip slightly and stroked down to his base. He pictured Hawke taking in his cock to the hilt in one swallow and groaned loudly, gooseflesh rising on his skin, his back arched into his own grip. Anders bit his lip and his brow furrowed in concentration, in his mind’s eye watching Hawke bob in time with his hand.

Anders reached with his free hand for the small tin of oil he kept at his bedside and dipped two of his fingers in, coating them thoroughly. He spread his legs wide and reached between them, gently teasing at his entrance with a single digit as he continued to stroke himself. He slipped the first finger in with a whimper, and kept it still inside as he adjusted to the feeling of fullness, the hand at his length slowing with his distraction. Gradually he began to move within himself, the finger moving gingerly in time with the hand on his cock. As he relaxed against himself he began to work a second oil-slicked finger in, groaning his pleasure as he stroked himself inside and out.

He released his length long enough to dip into the oil with his other hand before returning it back to his cock, the warm oil reminding him of how dream-Hawke’s warm, wet mouth had licked and kissed up and down his hardness. He began to scissor his fingers and pictured Hawke watching him hungrily, knuckle deep inside him and coaxing him open. He moaned wantonly and rewarded himself with the image of Hawke’s satisfied grin.

He withdrew the hand from inside of himself and moved for the other item at his bedside. The toy he reached for had a small, polished wooden head, and the shaft was slightly tapered and wrapped in specially treated leather. Not large, but enough to pacify his hungering. Anders released his cock, kicked his smalls the rest of the way off, and turned over onto all fours. He reached around behind himself and slowly inserted the toy he’d been prepping for. He buried his face and bit the pillow as he attempted to smother his cry of Hawke’s name as the toy was fully inserted and brushed against the pleasure point deep within him. His cock jumped, precum dripped onto the sheets beneath him, and he imagined Hawke’s strong, lithe fingers gripping his narrow hips as he started moving the toy in and out of himself.

He picked up the pace, his voice full of need and Hawke’s name, and pushed himself closer and closer to the edge. He fucked himself with urgency now, desperate for release. He imagined Hawke’s fingers gripping his hips rough enough to bruise, and the toy pressing hard against his pleasure point with each thrust was Hawke’s cock filling him, throbbing and forceful. His breath caught in his throat and his free hand became a fist in the pillow beneath him as he pushed himself towards his climax, that little death. The muscles in his abdomen and thighs tightened as he teetered over the edge of relief - _almost, almost, almost..._

And then he heard a voice outside.

“Anders?” Hawke called as he opened the door to the clinic. It wasn’t quite mid morning, but the day’s heat seemed to have already begun to settle in. He fanned himself as he paused and called again before he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Anders heart skipped and he gasped and whimpered quietly into the pillow as the first wave rolled over him. He heard Hawke call his name again as his orgasm continued to shake him, his seed spilled in spurts over the sheet. He fought to catch his breath, heard Hawke take another couple steps inside and, still panting slightly called out “J-just a moment!”

Anders quickly wiped himself off, splashed water on his face at the basin by his bed, and threw on a pair of loose fitting pants, before stepping out into the main room to face Hawke.

Hawke took a long appreciative look down from Anders’ flushed face to his bare chest to his waist and hips. _Oh Maker,_ he’d forgotten to put on fresh underclothes before throwing on his pants, and there he stood, still half hard in front of Hawke! Anders’ eyes widened in mortification and the flush on his face spread quickly down from his neck to his shoulders. He shifted from foot to foot in an awkward attempt to tuck himself away without using his hands and drawing further attention. Hawke quirked a brow and grinned knowingly before he turned to the side and averted his gaze. “So,” he chuckled and pretended not to notice as Anders adjusted himself further, “everyone’s waiting on us at the Hanged Man. Ready to go?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written while listening to "A Little Death" by The Neighbourhood


End file.
